Stumbling Along the Path of Destruction
by Wolfsbane Hallow
Summary: Harry is sent to live back with the Dursley's for another year, despite his many protests to Professor Dumbledore to stay. Finally, people begin to realise just how badly he is treated when living with his aunt and uncle, and he is immediately saved. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse and child abuse throughout the story. Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, MUCH TO MY OWN DISPLEASURE. It belongs to the marvellously talented J K Rowling. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse as well as child abuse throughout the whole story. This isn't something I'm writing on a whim, I am very familiar with the feelings due to experience and research yet please do feel free to review. It will be greatly appreciated. Tata for now, friend! Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Is home really where the heart is?**

It was the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. After saying all of his goodbyes, he waved gleefully to all of his friends and their families before turning around to face his own. His happy mood quickly diminished. Before him stood his uncle, aunt and cousin and they didn't look too pleased to see him. After a slow walk to them, dreading every step closer, Uncle Vernon reached out and grabbed him by the nape of the neck, intending to push him into the car but in the process making Harry hit his head on the door. Bitterly, Harry began to think to himself: and so the abuse starts.

As soon as they got home and his uncle had ordered Harry out of the car, Harry knew that he should fear his life tonight. The first few days back were always the worst as his uncle had to get used to looking at him again every morning, much to his displeasure. His punishment for Harry because of this fact often ended up with a swift kick to the ribs to wake him up every morning and the hard hit across the head as he stumbled aimlessly out the door. However, what happened in between this process was the worst. Harry's uncle insisted on being in the room as Harry was getting dressed as he enjoyed making the boy squirm. Sometimes, more for his own pleasure than the enjoyment at Harry's own displeasure, he would begin to run his hands across Harry's body. If Harry made a sound, seconds later he'd find his uncles calloused and beefy hand coming into contact with his face. On this particular day, however, Harry had had enough.

As he begin to take his top off, his uncle standing in the doorway and hungrily watching his every move with an eagerness in his eyes, Harry felt a sudden rage build up inside him. He spun around to face his uncle, throwing a look of complete and utter disgust his way.

"I would like some privacy." Harry stated menacingly to his uncle, glaring at him hard. He saw his uncles eyes widen before growing hard with hatred.

"What did you just say to me, boy?!" He barked, the spit flying from his mouth. He took a step forward, advancing on Harry. His fist flew out and landed hard on Harry's nose. Harry heard a crack, and was faintly aware of liquid pouring out of his nose slowly, forming a puddle on the ground. He didn't need to look to know it was blood. "Huh?! Answer me! I said, what did you say to me?!" Pulling his hand back, Uncle Vernon stared hatefully into the bright green eyes of his nephew. If looks could kill... Swinging his hand around, he felt Harry's head crash dangerously into the wall as he was forced from the impact of his uncle's slap. He prayed to God for an oblivion. Clasping the side of his head and feeling the blood seep through his fingers, he watched as his uncle got closer and closer. Lifting him up by his collar, he pulled the boy until they were face to face, and Harry could smell the strong stench of whiskey on his uncle's breath. "Now you listen to me boy. I've had enough of you. I've had enough of you trying to ruin my family. I've had enough of your threats, and I've had enough of your bloody existence! But whilst you live under my roof, you are going to be claimed as mine! I shall do with you as I wish, and if you want to breathe another breath, you will not tell anybody! Do you hear me?!" Vernon yelled, causing Harry to flinch inwardly. He felt sick. He couldn't speak, but he knew if he didn't, he'd get it worse than if he just spoke. Quietly, he obeyed and did exactly what his uncle wanted him to do.

"Yes sir..." Though it was laced with hatred, it was exactly what Vernon wanted to hear. He smirked, and Harry could see the beginning effects of the alcohol on the older man's teeth.

"Take off your pants boy." Harry stood, frozen. _What?_ Looking at his uncle, trying to keep the startled expression from his face, Harry obviously failed as his uncle growled at him, "take them off", emphasising each syllable. Slowly, Harry reached down and undid his button. For his deliberate slowness, he got a whack around the head as his uncle hissed from in between his clenched teeth to hurry. One button, two button. Then, he grabbed hold of his zip, intending to pull it down slowly until he found his uncle's beefy hand enclosing over his, clasping tightly enough that Harry could hear his bones rubbing together. He groaned with pain. "Ooh, do you like that, boy, then? Do you?" Mistaking Harry's groan for something else, Vernon quickly pulled the zip down with Harry's hand still on it, crushing it still. Gripping his jeans tightly, Vernon pulled Harry's pants down until they lay around his ankles, preventing him from running. Vernon saw what he wanted to see. "Oh, so you're not aroused by me then, boy? Am I too normal for you? Am I not a freak? Well it's a good thing I'm the only one here to be pleasured." Quickly and eagerly pulling his own trousers down, he took out his member and grasped it firmly. "Prepare to pay, boy."

Harry was frightened. His uncle had never done this before, and Harry had the distinct fear that he was going to rape him. _But no, even his uncle wouldn't do that to him, would he?_ Harry thought to himself, as Vernon ordered him to turn around. He quickly obeyed, not wanting another smack. He already felt faint as it was, and the blood was now trickling down his face and from his nose at a frightening speed. He didn't feel too well. Behind his back, he heard his uncle harsh breath that gradually got quicker and harder, proving his arousal at having the boy in such a state. He felt something warm at the tip of his backside, and shivered violently as he began to comprehend that his uncle meant business. Before he even knew it, his uncle had penetrated his innocence. Harry bit back the scream, and yet again felt more blood trickle down his face, this time from his mouth. The pain was too much, and he felt himself black out almost seconds after his uncle drew out and pounded back into him again.

When he woke, he found himself on his bedroom floor. The door was locked from the outside, and there was a strong smell in the room. Looking down, Harry found himself laying in a puddle of his own puke and blood. He was repulsed. He tried standing up, but a pain shot through his ribs and across his whole body. _Dammit_, he hissed through clenched teeth. He fell back to the floor. Decided that dragging was the best option, he began to pull himself towards his bed. His head felt strange, like someone had been pounded on it with a hammer until finally, his skull had cracked. And he had the headache from bloody hell. He groaned. This was just the start to his summer.

A/N: So, guys, what d'ya think for the first chapter? Got a review? Just click that button, write it down and post it! I'll take into consideration every review, and don't refrain in being negative but please don't be harsh. Tata for now!


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, MUCH TO MY OWN DISPLEASURE. It belongs to the marvellously talented J K Rowling. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse as well as child abuse throughout the whole story. This isn't something I'm writing on a whim, I am very familiar with the feelings due to experience and research yet please do feel free to review. It will be greatly appreciated. Tata for now, friend! Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart (three weeks later)**

After falling onto his bed and passing out after another abusive night from his uncle, Harry decided enough was finally enough. He went to sit down at his desk, wincing as he felt the strain on what he feared was a broken leg. He had bruises covering all of his face as well as many gashes and cuts. Across his chest were burn marks from where his uncle took out on Harry his new habit: smoking. Once he'd finished with a cigarette, he'd use Harry as his ash tray, putting it out right on his skin. The pain was nothing compared to when he used his belt on him. As the leather came crashing down across his back, he felt like someone was trailing fire across it. Whilst his uncle just laughed, Harry could almost feel the tears threatening to course down his face. The worst part was the fact that whilst his silent abuse was going on, his aunt and cousin slept not far in another room, most likely aware of what is going on. Though he was 15 now, preparing to go onto his sixth year at Hogwarts, he still couldn't defend himself again a mere muggle. He loathed himself. He disgusted himself. Pulling his thoughts back to what he was doing, he picked up his pen but dropped it quickly again with a groan. Across the whole length of his hand was a dark purple and black bruise, darker in the places where he suspected his fingers were broken. Biting his lip, he picked the pen back up and began to write.

_I don't know if I'm writing to ask you to save me, or asking you to save me from myself. The thought of what my uncle does disgusts me, yet I look in the mirror to find something even more repulsing. You can stop my uncle, but can you stop me? I have often thought about suicide, but only being a wizard in a muggle world, I wouldn't know how to do it. They say I'm a freak, my uncle screams it out to me as he penetrates my body, invading my privacy and stripping me of my freedom. My aunt sits in another room and closes her eyes and shuts her ears. My cousin, too. Whilst I lay there in my own filth and wonder if the dirt will ever come off. Will I ever be clean again? I don't know. I suspect that, if ever I had to leave one, this would be my suicide note._

Harry had to stop as the pain in his hand became too much. Attempting to massage it but only realising it made it worse, he sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He closed his bruised eyes and was about to drift off when he heard a familiar voice...

"Ah, hello Mr Dursley. I presume you don't recognise me, though I am perfectly sure that you know of me. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I'm here to pick up Harry. I do believe I sent an owl a day or two again requesting his assistance and that he be ready for me to pick him up today?" Albus waited calmly for a response as the large man grew redder and fatter in the face.

"Are you telling me, you have just knocked on my door to pick up the boy you left here about fourteen bloody years ago?!" Vernon spat venomously at the head teacher who he despised. He was just like that boy. A freak.

"Well now sir, if you would calm down, I shall explain myself. But first, where is Harry? He hasn't come down to see me yet and that is rather rude. Does he know I'm here?" Albus looked wonderingly up the stairs. Vernon looked furious.

"Well how am I meant to bloody know?!" He barked, before walking up to the bottom of the stairs and shouting up "boy". He heard a meek reply. Turning to the wizard dressed even more obscenely than any other he'd seen so far, he told him if he wanted the boy, he was to go and get him. Albus merely nodded, and starting walking up the stairs.

The distant sound of his head teacher's voice had given Harry hope._ They have come to rescue him!_ He heard light footsteps up the stairs and knew Professor Dumbledore was on his way up. He was about to seize the handle to go out when he remembered how he looked. Oh. Dumbledore couldn't see him like this. Harry wouldn't allow it.

"Professor Dumbledore?" He said meekly to the figure advancing up the stairs.

"Yes Harry?"

"I think you should go." Harry's voice caught saying it, but he knew they couldn't see him like this. They'd want to know what happened, and he just wouldn't be able to say. His uncle's threat came back to him. _And if you want to breathe another breath, you will not tell anybody._ Harry shivered. He heard his headmaster say his name through the door. "I-I'm ill. I don't want you catching anything off of me." He heard a sigh.

"Harry, I will not catch anything off of you. I need to speak to you please, so will you just open the door? Please?" Harry sighed, feeling the tears begin to prickle his eyes. Slowly, he turned the doorknob. As soon as the door was opened wide enough for Dumbledore to see Harry, Harry looked up into the blue twinkling eyes. Only they weren't twinkling any more. They were gleaming. Gleaming with a malicious hatred that Harry could only guess was aimed at his uncle. Yet Dumbledore had gone white, and Harry knew exactly why. "Oh Harry...my dear boy, I-"

"Stop, sir. Don't. Please. I know how I look. It's...it's not as bad as it seems though." Harry stuttered. Before Professor Dumbledore could reply, there was a loud shout from below.

"Well? Have you got the boy, yet?" Harry flinched at his tone and hoped that Professor Dumbledore hadn't seen. He had, much to Harry's displeasure, and he briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, his face now had a stoic expression. It was actually quite frightening. When he spoke, Harry could hear an edge to his tone that knew wasn't a good thing.

"Harry, pack your things please whilst I have a word with your uncle."

"No! Professor, no, please, stop! He'll kill me!" Harry begged, trying to stop the man from having words with his uncle. Dumbledore sighed.

"Harry, please. Your bags. Pack them now." And with that, he turned and walked back down the stairs rather quickly for such an old man. Harry began shaking violently. He didn't know what to do, but he couldn't pack his bad whilst his headmaster had words with his uncle. Quickly, Harry ran down the stairs just as Dumbledore stepped in front of Vernon. He could no doubt smell the whiskey on his uncle's breath (his uncle had now taken to a large glass of whiskey with every meal). Luckily, neither had noticed Harry. On this particular day, his aunt and cousin were out, so it was only these three. Dumbledore looked ready to kill.

"Mr Dursley, upstairs is a boy whom I care for very, very much." He was still unaware of Harry's presence at the door. "Yet instead of being the boy I remember, he is now someone who has been subjected to violence. Do you care to explain for me, Mr Dursley?" Dumbledore's tone was frightening. His face remained impassive. Harry recoiled inwardly as his Professor took a step closer to Vernon whose face looked as purple and beefy as it has ever been.

"Why don't you guess, you freak. The boy has been nothing but a thorn in my side. You left him here, on my doorstep. He will be treated however I want to treat him, and no one can tell me otherwise. So you can grab that brat, and his bloody owl, and take them the hell away from here because I don't want them any more!" Towards the end, Vernon had started shouting, and unwillingly, this had brought a whimper from Harry. He berated himself for it as his uncle turned to face him, finally noticing him. Harry bright green eyes widened. _Oh god..._

"You! I told you not to tell you horrid little brat!" Vernon lunged for him, but before Harry could move out of the way, he was pinned up against the wall as his uncle repeatedly hit any part of him he could reach. He felt his already broken ribs crack more, and he took in a great gasp of air as his breath left him.

"Enough!" Vernon was suddenly pulled away from Harry, replaced by the figure of Dumbledore as he came to check on Harry. The boy's eyes were closing. Albus feared he had a concussion, as Harry's slight frame began to fall to the ground. He bent and easily picked the boy up. He was much too thin. He turned to glare hard at Vernon. "You shall never touch this boy again." And with that, Professor Dumbledore apparated out of the house.

Harry felt a strange feeling, one he'd never felt before. Though he was still unconscious, he was slightly aware of what was going on. For the first time in a month or so, Harry willingly let himself think about the man who had died just last year: his godfather. Sirius was killed by no other than Bellatrix Lestrange. He was angry, he was sad, he was unhappy, but most of all, he missed Sirius. He wanted his godfather back. But just as he began to ponder over the events of last year, a sweet escape crept upon him and he felt his breath slowing slightly. Any consciousness he felt was about to leave him. And Dumbledore felt this as he was apparating the boy back to Hogwarts. As Harry was later to find out in a conscious state, being headmaster has his privileges as he is able to bend the law that says no apparating in and out of Hogwarts. But being completely oblivious to what was going on, Harry didn't need to know any of this just yet.

A/N: Thank you for getting through another chapter! Know I love you all! Keep reviewing please guys, it gives me inspiration to carry on!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, MUCH TO MY OWN DISPLEASURE. It belongs to the marvellously talented J K Rowling. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse as well as child abuse throughout the whole story. This isn't something I'm writing on a whim, I am very familiar with the feelings due to experience and research yet please do feel free to review. It will be greatly appreciated. Tata for now, friend! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3: Survival.**

As soon as Dumbledore began to feel the boy's body go limp, he knew he had to rush. As he finally landed back in his office, he immediately made his way out of the doors and to the hospital wing.

"Poppy! Severus!" He began shouting, just as he reached the hospital wing doors. He heard a slight commotion inside before the doors were thrown open. Madame Pomfrey gasped at what she saw. By the looks of the skinny figure and dark unruly hair that she knew could only belonged to one boy, Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts early. Only, the circumstances as to why he returned were rather grave. As she got closer, she got a better look at his face. She cried out as her hands quickly shot to her mouth. It was horrifying. His face was covered by cuts and bruises, his eyes swollen and his lips purple and puffy. She could tell from the way his overly large clothes just hung from his body that he hadn't been well fed this year. He looked just skin and bones.

"Poppy-" Dumbledore began before Madame Pomfrey quickly cut him off. She knew what he wanted her to do.

"Set him down on the bed please, Albus." Professor Dumbledore nodded, and quickly, but gently, set Harry on the closest bed to Madame Pomfrey's office. Madame Pomfrey briefly closed her eyes before re-opening them. Her face was now impassive.

She walked up the figure on the bed and more closely inspected his face. His nose was crooked slightly, telling her that it had been broken at some point during the holidays. Maybe even more than once. There was a large cut going down the side of his head that was surrounded by a large, red welt. She suspected a belt had been used against him. She could see the remnants of blood on nearly all of his injuries. This thought scared her deeply.

"Albus, he's gravely injured." She said as she checked for a pulse. She found one, but it was quickly fading.

"I know," Dumbledore said, "will he be alright?" She could hear the worry in his voice.

"Honestly, I don't know. He's going to need a very strong blood replenishing potion, skele-gro, and much, much more. I fear he has more broken bones than anybody should be able to survive with. I haven't looked at his ribs yet, but they are no doubt either cracked or badly bruised from the way he's breathing. Which, might I add, is fading as is his pulse. So please headmaster, run and grab Severus." Albus just listened to this and as soon as she said grab Severus, he was turning around and running out the door, his cloak billowing behind him.

Running down to the dungeons to grab the potions master, Dumbledore was quickly rapping on the door, shouting for Professor Snape to come quick.

"Severus! You're needed! Hurry up, and bring any or all of your medical supplies and potions!" Just then, the door opened to show a very aggravated Snape. He was obviously not pleased that he was being disturbed but for once, Dumbledore hardly cared. "Severus, please, I need all of your medical supplies and potions. It's urgent." Severus saw the way the old man's eyes were twinkling with worry and knew that he meant it when he said it was urgent. Turning swiftly, he went back into his room to grab something and came back out carrying a black bag that jingled from the many potions inside. Following Dumbledore to the hospital wing, he saw a sight he had not expected to see.

At the far end of the wing, lying on the bed unconscious, was no other than the famous Harry Potter. It wasn't until he got up close that he saw the many injuries. He recoiled in horror. He may have disliked the boy greatly, but the sight he saw was worse than anything James Potter had ever put him through. Severus was disgusted that anyone could ever hurt a child like this. Just then, Madame Pomfrey turned to face them.

"Albus, you're back. Oh Severus, you're here too. Good. I need the blood replenishing potion. I can't heal any of his many broken bones until he has more strength. He's too weak. The spells could kill him if he doesn't have the correct amount of strength and, unfortunately for Harry, that won't be for another few days. I'll have to do what I can. But Albus, who did this to him?" Albus sighed.

"A man as to whom he will never be returning to." Poppy saw the look on Albus's face and knew not to ask anymore. Instead, she turned to Severus.

"Severus, I shall need a blood replenishing potion please." Professor Snape just nodded, and went to search in his black bag of potions for it. When he found it, he handed it over to Madame Pomfrey. She noticed he was paler than usual as well as shaking slightly. "Thank you." Again, he just nodded. She turned to Harry then.

His face was getting paler and paler by the second, like all of the blood was gradually running out of it which, of course, it was. Madame Pomfrey lifted him up into a sitting position and he stirred slightly. She could feel him trying to tense but he didn't have the strength. Carefully opening his mouth, she poured in the contents of the potion, making sure it didn't go anywhere but in his mouth and down his throat. As soon as the liquid began to run down his throat, Harry began swallowing again and his face was visibly becoming what it used to be: a peachy kind of colour. Madame Pomfrey thought she heard the whole room sigh, her along with it, and averted her eyes back to Harry as soon as he started coughing. There was a little bit of blood coming out of his mouth, but he was alive and that's all that mattered. Laying him down again, she covered his body with the blankets. "That'll have to do for now. We'll have a look at the rest of his injuries later. For now, let him sleep. I'll keep an eye on him." Professor Dumbledore nodded, thanking her as he did. She saw how relieved he was at the boy living, and gave him a slight smile which he kindly returned, though she suspected it was partially false. _The boy had almost died, of course he wouldn't be smiling!_ She thought to herself. She turned to see Professor Snape just staring down at Harry. "Severus, are you alright?" Almost like he was coming out of a trance, Severus jolted before he looked at them.

"Hmm? What was that?" He snarled, immediately remembering who he was and who he was with.

"I said are you alright?" Poppy asked with concern.

"Yes, of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?" He put an edge into his tone and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You just seem a little off, that's all. Now, if you don't mind, I think its best you both go and leave Potter to sleep. I'll shout you when he awakes. Severus, I might need another blood replenishing potion as well as a strength potion. He should wake in an hour or so. I'd like them sometime before then please." Ushering them out of the room, she turned back to the boy and sighed. "Oh Harry, how did this happen?" She grabbed a cloth and wet it. She was going to clean the blood off of his face.

A/N: Thank you once again for reading! Keep reviewing and I hope you're enjoying it! Be warned, the next chapter contains a lot of emotion!


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, MUCH TO MY OWN DISPLEASURE. It belongs to the marvellously talented J K Rowling. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse as well as child abuse throughout the whole story. This isn't something I'm writing on a whim, I am very familiar with the feelings due to experience and research yet please do feel free to review. It will be greatly appreciated. Tata for now, friend! Enjoy!

**Chapter 4: Resistance. **

As soon as he felt the cold water gently being applied to his face, he immediately regained consciousness. He sat up suddenly, gasping and choking whilst shivering uncontrollably with fear. He was tucked in a warm bed in a place that felt familiar but was too panicked to think where. As soon as he'd sat up, the cold cloth was quickly taken off of his head but now, someone was trying to put it back on. He heard them speak.

"Mr Potter, will you please lay back down?" Madame Pomfrey said. Harry suddenly knew where he was. He didn't have his glasses so everything looked blurry. He knew where he was from hearing Madame Pomfrey's voice. He tried to speak, but his throat was so hoarse that he could hardly make a sound. Finally, after much coughing and Madame Pomfrey gently pouring some water down his throat, he was able to get his words out.

"Where's my glasses?" He said, his voice sounding strange, even to his ears. He felt Madame Pomfrey shift a little.

"Mr Potter, how much do you remember?" _What is she going on about?_ He thought to himself. Harry didn't understand what she meant. Then all of a sudden, it all came back to him. _His uncle_... He recoiled in horror.

"Oh god..." He felt the tears spring to his eyes but when he went to move his hand and wipe them, all he felt was pain. He cried out.

"Mr Potter, will you please be still?" He heard Madame Pomfrey say sternly. He lay back until his head was once again on the soft pillow. He tried his hardest to not let his tears fall, but one escaped and glided alone down his face. He didn't know if Madame Pomfrey had noticed, but for once, he didn't care. "Potter, we need to know what happened. But before we ask you any questions, we shall need to examine the rest of your body." She said gently, feeling the urge to hug the boy tightly and restraining. She'd seen the tear as it glided down his face and could almost feel his pain. He just nodded stiffly, and she turned to call for Severus and Albus. She reckoned they'd want to see this, but she also needed the potions she'd asked Severus for.

Severus had just finished making the potions in the dungeons and retreated to his office for a little break when an owl flew to the closed window. He opened it and held out his arm. Attached to the owls leg was a bit of parchment. After reading what it said, he gathered the potions he needed and made his way to the hospital wing.

Albus had been sitting in his office for some time now. He was sitting in front of the pensieve, flicking through the memories he had put in there of a happy Harry. He'd had no idea... He shivered and then sighed. Suddenly, a tapping on the window brought him out of his reverie. He turned to find an owl at his window. He opened it and waited until the owl had glided to his held out arm. Taking the parchment from his leg, he took it and read it. He sighed, and made his way down to the hospital wing.

Harry could feel himself flitting in and out of consciousness for ten minutes or so, but after this, he stayed wide awake. He stared straight at the windows, not moving a muscle except from the occasional flinch when a memory returned to him. He was already shivering violently, and Madame Pomfrey just hovered around his bed. He didn't want her to touch him. Before, when his uncle had just felt him, he was able to just tolerate touch. But now, after what he did... He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wouldn't let anybody touch him, and he feared he never would again. Suddenly, the great doors sprang open and in walked Professor Dumbledore and unfortunately, his least favourite teacher.

"Harry, my boy, I'm so glad you're awake. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling unlike when Harry had seen them wide with a malicious gleam when he saw what his uncle had done to Harry. _They don't even know the half of it..._

"Fine." He said, still staring at Snape. Why was he here? Then he noticed the black bag containing potions in his hand and gathered he was here to give the potions to Madame Pomfrey. Dumbledore carried on.

"That is good to hear. Now, Harry, as you are aware, I've witnessed your Uncle's attack on you and so can gather where all of these injuries are from. But we need you to explain to us what happened." Harry felt himself flinch. Explain? He wasn't sure he'd be able to, let alone start. _Well, my uncle got drunk and angry so he hit me and used his belt. Oh yeah, and he raped me._ Harry thought to himself bitterly. Instead of saying this, he just nodded and meekly replied,

"Ok." Dumbledore smiled sympathetically.

"Oh good. Now, Poppy, proceed with your examination."

"Ok. Potter, I'm going to need you to strip down to your undergarments. Once I've finished examining you, you're going to need some food because you look dangerously malnourished, possibly even anorexic. But for now, let's worry about these injuries. So, Potter, your shirt off please." Harry began to panic as soon as she said to strip down. _Then they might know... Oh get a grip Potter. They said leave your undergarments on. They won't find out. Stop being such a paranoid little girl._ He quietly and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, but then a flashback of what had happened last time he did this came back to him. He shuddered violently, and quickly unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. He heard a gasp as soon as he did, but he refused to look up. Then he heard another gasp as he gathered they'd realised that the small white scars covering his chest and arms were cigarette burns from when his uncle had put them out on him.

"My god..." He heard Madame Pomfrey say, and that's when he looked up to find them all staring at him with the same expression on each of their faces; shock. Even on Snape's. He noticed that once again, Dumbledore's bright blue eyes had lost their twinkle. He didn't know what to say and, apparently, neither did they. They just stared, making him feel more and more dirty and abnormal as they did. He cringed and looked back down at the ground again. Finally, Professor Dumbledore broke the silence.

"Harry, I- why didn't you tell me? I would have got you out of there and away from this!" Harry retreated more into himself at Dumbledore's chosen words. _Why didn't you tell him, Potter?_ His subconscious snarled at him.

"I- I didn't think anyone would believe me and...That-that I deserved it." Harry thought he heard Snape growl when he said this, but quickly brushed it aside when he felt a hand cupping his chin. He tensed. Whoever it was who was holding him felt this and immediately removed it.

"Harry, look at me please." Dumbledore began but Harry shook his head. "Harry, please, just look at me." Defeated, Harry looked up into the bright blue eyes covered by a pair of half-moon spectacles. They looked sad. "Whatever happened to you at your uncle's house was not your fault. Your uncle is obviously a very disturbed man for him to want to take his anger out on a poor and innocent child, especially someone as special as you. You have done nothing wrong. If Sirius were here, he'd say exactly the same and then go after the man who hurt you. You are not in fault, your uncle is." Harry had managed to hold it together until Dumbledore mentioned his godfather. At this point, he completely broke down. He fell to the floor and put his head on his knees, the tears streaming down his face. He sobbed and sobbed until he felt a hand on his back.

"Don't!" He hadn't meant to shout, but just the thought of someone touching him repulsed him. He looked up in time to see hurt quickly flash in his headmasters eyes before it was gone. "Don't, please. I don't want to be touched. I could make you dirty." Harry hadn't meant to say the last bit and immediately regretted it when he did.

"Dirty? Harry, how could you ever make us dir- oh." Why did he stop? Harry wondered. _Maybe he realised that I am dirty and not worth the hassle._ He looked down at the ground again. "Harry, I need to ask you a very serious question, and you need to tell me the truth. Did your uncle abuse you in any other way than violently?" He quickly shot his head up and stared frightfully into the headmasters eyes. He tried to speak clearly, but his words just came out quiet and choked.

"N-no..." At this, Madame Pomfrey burst into tears and Snape looked fit to kill. _Why? He hates me. He'd gladly see me hurt. _But Dumbledore looked the worst. All composure he'd gathered just disappeared, and he turned and walked out the double doors, shutting them with a bang. Harry hoped that he'd just gone to be alone to cool off, but he knew better: he'd gone to have another word with his uncle, and this scared Harry.

A/N: Thank you anthony37, Rosaleen and TheDemonLady for your reviews! I'll work on the ideas you've given me if you have given me one! I told you this would be an emotional chapter ;) Keep favouriting and following and reviewing, I love you all!


	5. Chapter 5

I'm a bit bored of the same old disclaimer I put every time. By now, I'm sure you're all aware that the fantastic characters that I use throughout the story do not belong to me but the amazing J K Rowling. I want to thank everyone for your amazing reviews! anthony37 – thank you for your constant reviews, I take into consideration everything you think is going to happen and play around with it a little bit! Rosaleen – Don't worry, the real action starts soon and everyone else gets involved (well, that's the plan, at least). TheDemonLady – I'm so sorry if I'm torturing you! I'm trying to write at any time I came – when I'm meant to be asleep or at school (I'm only 16!) phoenixreal – That made me smile so much when I read that! It means a lot! Thank you, all of you! Much love! Enjoy the story m'dears and I'll try and update as fast as I can!

Chapter 5: Some secrets are better kept untold

Albus was far passed angry. Not only had Vernon hurt Harry, he'd taken Harry in a way that Harry should never have been submitted to. He loved this boy, and he wouldn't let anybody hurt him ever again. His uncle needed dealing with. He needed punishing. And Albus was ready to be the one to deal it.

Harry looked up at Snape, frightened. In this moment, he forgot his detest for the man and concentrated solely on the situation before them.

"Professor, you need to stop him. Please." Harry begged. He didn't want Dumbledore to hurt anyone because of him. Snape looked like he was having a debate with himself.

"Pott- Harry, you have to listen to me. What Professor Dumbledore said is right. That man should not have hurt you, and because he has, he deserves to be punished. And right now, it's taking everything in me not to follow him and throw in a few hexes of my own." Snape genuinely sounded concerned, which threw Harry a little. Still, he didn't resent.

"Professor, you don't understand it. If Professor Dumbledore hurts him, he could be thrown in muggle prison as well as Azkaban. The authorities will find out, and they'd ask me questions. I don't want to relive what happened. The nightmares are too much as it is. Please, sir, go get him." He thought he saw Professor Snape bite his lip before nodding.

"Alright. I'll go and get him." He turned towards Madame Pomfrey, "Poppy, you'll stay with the boy, won't you?" She nodded.

"I won't leave his side."

"Good. I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll try and stop Albus and if I can't, then I'll get him out of there as soon as possible and make up for the damages." With that, he turned and quickly walked out the door as both Harry and Poppy stared after him. _This should be interesting_, Severus thought to himself.

He knew there was only one place Albus would be, whether he'd gone to think or go after Harry's uncle, and that was his office. It was the only place he could apparate from. He practically ran to his office. Quickly saying the password and running up the stairs, he found the room filled with a slight breeze and cursed to himself. Shit, he'd just missed him. Concentrating on where he wanted to go, he felt himself begin to spin on the spot before he was standing in the middle of a room that wasn't familiar. The voice he heard shouting as he reached the ground, however, was. Then he heard a scream, and quickly ran to where it had come from. He appeared in the doorway to what he presumed was Harry's Uncle's bedroom just in time to see Dumbledore slam the disgusting muggle against the wall with his magic. When he spoke, even Severus recoiled a little.

"How dare you. I left this boy with you in the hope that you'll keep him safe, but you did the complete opposite of that. I carried that boy back to Hogwarts, afraid that any breath might have been his last. You'll pay for what you did to that boy, Dursley, you'll pay." But just as Dumbledore raised his wand and Harry's aunt whimpered, Snape stepped into the room.

"Albus." All eyes in the room turned to look at him, each portraying a different emotion. Petunia: fear. Dudley: petrification. Albus: malicious anger. Vernon: hope. Well, that was before he realised who his saviour actually was. Then it turned to a similar disgust that was in Severus's eyes, directed at the muggle himself. Severus walked forward and grabbed the old man's arm. He looked at each of the Dursley's in turn before apparating out of the room with Albus's arm still in his hand. He felt no struggle, just the old man deflate as the similar sensation of apparation filled their bodies. Moments later, they were once again standing in Dumbledore's office where the old man fell into the chair.

"Albus, you're going to listen to me now. You will stay silent until I have finished. Do you understand?" Albus just nodded; he looked completely lost. "Back in the hospital wing is a boy whom I know you care for a great deal. He has been harmed in many ways which he should not have been. However, even if we would both like to rip the guts out of the man who did it to him, what we need to consider first and foremost is what Harry wants. As soon as you walked out that room, he begged me to stop you, and I did. From now on, Harry's uncle isn't our problem, Harry is. We shall inform the order of what has happened and leave them to deal with Harry's uncle. Hopefully, they'll do it sensibly and not cause too much of a stir. But we'll see. For now, you are going to walk back into the room where a young boy lies in anticipation of if I managed to reach you in time, and you are going to sit there and be there for him. As am I, though I know that I shall not be wanted. The boy detests me. And I did him, but not after what I found out today. He really is a Gryffindor. To think he endured that and kept quiet throughout the whole thing..." He shook his head. "Are you ready now Albus?" Snape said, concluding his speech. Dumbledore stood up and smoothed his robes down.

"I am ready Severus."

"Good," he said, making his way to the door and holding it open for the headmaster.

"And Severus?"

"Yes Albus?"

"Thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

Harry lay on the bed, clearly agitated of having been made to stay in the hospital wing. What made it worse was the constant fussing from Madame Pomfrey. As soon as Snape walked out the door, she wiped her eyes and ordered him back into the bed. He hoped Snape got to Dumbledore before he did something stupid because of Harry. Seconds felt like minutes as Harry waited and waited. Suddenly, the doors sprang open, and Harry immediately shot up. _He's got him!_ But he stopped when he recognised who it was and heard her gasp.

They stared at each other in silence until finally, Harry broke the silence.

"Professor McGonagall, what are you doing here?" She just continued to stare at him, as he did her.

"Potter, what-what's going on? Why are you here and why are you battered?" Harry didn't know what to say, but luckily Madame Pomfrey spotted McGonagall just then and came out to see her.

"Ah, Minerva. How lovely to see you. Would you like to step into my office so I can explain?" McGonagall looked dumbfounded, but followed Madame Pomfrey into her office nevertheless. Harry lay back against his pillows and wondered if this day could get any worse.

Minerva just stared at Poppy, letting the tears glide silently down her face. She couldn't believe it. How could anybody do such a thing to a sweet boy like Harry, let alone any child? Sure, he had his problems and he was trouble when he wanted to be, but he was innocent. She didn't know what to do. What to say. She felt Poppy put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but it meant nothing. Minerva felt empty. She'd left that boy there with that man, despite his many pleas to stay. She listened to Albus and had left him there. And this fact only made her cry more. She just didn't know what to do.

Harry could hear Professor McGonagall's sobs from where he lay in his bed waiting for Snape and Dumbledore. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Mustering the strength he'd need, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He swayed for a moment before he finally righted himself. Slowly, not knowing if he'd manage or not, he began to make his way to the double doors which would take him out the hospital wing. It was a good thing Professor McGonagall had left them open in her haste because otherwise he don't think he would have been able to open them. He still felt extremely weak. Slipping out of them silently, he began limping down to Professor Dumbledore's office. His broken leg still hasn't been mended.

Finally at the spiral staircase and great eagle statue that was the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office with the perspiration standing out in glints on his forehead, Harry cursed himself as he wondered what the password was. How did he not remember that there was a password into the headmaster's office? He sighed and slid down to the floor as his broken leg got the better of him.

Harry didn't know how long he lay on the floor for, the only thing he knew was that after some time, someone was shaking him awake. He opened his bright green eyes to find them staring into gentle and twinkling blue ones.

"Professor," he began to get up but Dumbledore gently pushed him back down onto the floor.

"Shush Harry. Come into my office, we need a talk."

A/N: So, guys, what do you think? I know it's short and lacks any real action or emotion, but I'm trying to build it up as well as not put in too much emotion to overwhelm you. Thank you to everybody reading this! Please review, it makes my day!


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, J K Rowling does. I know I haven't been as fast with this update as I have with the others, but I had writers block as well as my arm in a sling for a couple of days. I wanted to make this emotional, but was having a few problems of my own that prevented me from really grasping the emotion that everyone should be feeling. I promise that later on, I shall do a chapter that will make you cry. BE WARNED! Vivid flashbacks on Harry's part, possibly in the next chapter or a bit later on. If you have any improvements, please review and tell me! But bear in mind that I first write this out on the notes page on my iPhone so there WILL be mistakes. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. Tata for now!

**Chapter 6: Truth comes with consequences.**

Harry didn't want to go into the office. The last time he came in here was the night that...that...he didn't even want to think about it. The night he lost someone so special, it caused him to finally break. When he walked into Dumbledore's office and sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore, he noticed that it was in exactly the same shape as it had been the night that Sirius had died. Basically, a little bit of a mess.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried looking him in the eye, but Harry refused to look up. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he had to say something.

"Don't, sir. Just stop. You don't get it." He still hung his head and wouldn't meet the headmasters penetrating gaze. He began to feel embarrassed and ashamed of who he was.

"Then explain it to me." Albus needed to get Harry to talk. Not for his sake, but for Harry's. It was too big of a burden to carry on his own.

"I can't! What don't you understand about that?! I can't talk about it! I never can and I never will!" At this, his head finally snapped up and Dumbledore saw clearly the pain and anger shown there. His eyes were beginning to get watery and Dumbledore felt the boy needed a good cry. And unfortunately for him, the only way that was going to happen was through Harry talking. He sighed.

"Harry, you don't know if I'll understand or not. I may not have been in your place, but I'm very empathetic. I will listen to everything you have to say. I will comfort you. I will help you. I know I have failed you before Harry, and I can't do anything but ask for your forgiveness. Forgive me in thinking that you were at the safest place possible every time you were sent back. I care for you so much, I only ever see the happy side of you. And when you're hurting, I hurt too. My dear boy, you are like a son to me. I want you to trust me and be able to talk to me so please, try Harry. It's for your sake and benefit, not mine." Albus reached out and grabbed Harry's hands. As soon as his slight hands were enclosed in Dumbledore's old ones, Harry felt a warmth spread through him. He let out the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding.

"It hurt so much... I didn't know if I'd done something wrong," he choked. "I did everything they told me to do. I was good. But I couldn't control my magic, and they didn't like this. They didn't like living with me. They said I was a f-freak and that I didn't belong with them. I felt so dirty..." He paused, and Dumbledore was about to encourage him a bit when he surprisingly carried on, on his own. "He just came into my room, locked the door, and looked at me. I knew what he wanted as soon as I saw the hunger in his eyes. He wanted to r-r-rape me... And he did. He finally did, I didn't want to believe it was true. I tried convincing myself it was a nightmare. But if it was, it was never ending. I wanted to die... I found the pieces of broken mirror that S-S-Sirius had given me for my birthday in my trunk, and I just took that shard of glass. I wanted to do it so bad... But I couldn't. I know I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort. I'd rather kill Voldemort and then be killed at his hands than do it myself knowing I'm only leaving more people to suffer. I don't want to hurt anybody... Not like they hurt me..." Here, Harry stopped. He couldn't go on. He put his head in his hands and just let the tears fall. He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but let himself be led into an embrace with the old man. He just wanted to be loved... He grasped tightly at Dumbledore, not wanting to let go and crying all the while. If his uncle would have seen him so weak, he would have beaten him for it. Or worse... A great shiver racked his body and he felt Dumbledore pull him closer. He looked up to see the silent tears gliding from the twinkling blue eyes as Dumbledore held the fragile and dear boy. He knew he would never let him go, and this fact relaxed Harry. He began to feel a little weary and finally, fell asleep whilst Dumbledore still clutched him.

As soon as he heard the boy's breathing even out and the sobbing stop, he knew he'd fell asleep. Yet Albus couldn't seem to stop his own tears from falling from his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to go back and find the man who had hurt his Harry, but then he remembered what Severus had said. _He was right, of course. Harry was his main concern, the order would be left to deal with the despicable muggle._ His tears just stopped thinking about him. Remembering that Harry was lying against his chest, he attempted to even his raging heart and calm it down a little._ Relax..._ He took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and looking ahead. Everything he did now, he did for Harry. He cared about that boy so much, it made his heart hurt thinking about it.

Harry wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for, but when he opened his eyes and looked up he saw Professor Dumbledore staring ahead at the wall, a stoic expression on his face. He looked scary... As soon as Dumbledore noticed Harry was awake, he closed his eyes momentarily and when he next opened them, his face looked rather pleasant and he was back to normal. He smiled at Harry, yet the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're awake. How are you feeling now?" He asked Harry, still smiling, and almost hatefully, Harry noticed.

"Fine, just a little tired. How long have I been asleep for?"

"An hour or two. I think it's time we headed back to the hospital wing now, don't you? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is wondering where you are. We'll get some food down you too. Can you stand?" Harry nodded, yet when he stood up to try he felt a pain shoot up his leg and almost fell over if it hadn't have been for Dumbledore putting his arm around his waist and steadying him.

"Thanks," he said, ignoring how weird this must look if someone was to see.

"It's my pleasure Harry. Would you rather I carried you or just supported you?" Harry shifted a little.

"Just support please, sir."

"Of course." They began walking back in a comfortable silence with Dumbledore's arm still around Harry's waist to keep him upright.

"Professor," Harry broke the silence just before they reached the hospital wing doors. "What's going to happen with me once I'm better?" Dumbledore sighed. He was waiting for Harry to ask him something like this.

"My dear boy, I don't know what will happen. But I know you're not going back to your uncle's house. Ever. For now, you can either sleep in the hospital wing, the Gryffindor dormitories or we can find you space somewhere else in the castle. I had thought about sending you to the Burrow, but I'm sure Molly and Arthur have enough children in that house already. So, for now, Hogwarts will have to do. I'll talk with the order and ask Remus. If only Sirius was here..." When he said the last bit, he felt Harry stiffen and knew he'd made a grave mistake when Harry started to pull out of his grasp. "Harry-"

"I'm fine. I can walk now, thank you." And in this moment, he truly looked broken as well as lost. Dumbledore sighed. He knew that Harry was damaged far more than any of them had suspected. And he needed to be careful about what he said. He obviously hasn't recovered from Sirius's death so the abuse was not his only problem. He let Harry limp a few spaces ahead, his face contorted in obvious pain, before Dumbledore followed quietly. He knew the boy just wanted to be alone at this moment in time, so he'd do what he can to abide by his wishes. Soon, they'd reached the hospital wing, and Dumbledore stepped before Harry to hold the door open for him. He nodded his head in thanks, and Dumbledore sighed inwardly. He hated seeing Harry hurt, but he was adamant to do something about it.

As soon as Dumbledore had opened the door for him, a sad look on his face, he watched as Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey's heads all snapped quickly around to look at him. They all looked concerned and worried as well as a bit annoyed. It was McGonagall who spoke first, unfortunately, and Harry knew he was in for an ear bashing. He noticed her eyes were still slightly red and puffy. He looked to the ground before he could meet her gaze.

"Potter! Where have you been?! You just walked out and we couldn't find you anywhere! We thought something had- oh, Albus, you're here. Severus said you wanted to be alone in your office for a few minutes so we didn't want to disturb you. Was Harry with you all this time?" Her voice quivered a little, and she looked at Harry apologetically only to find him still looking at the ground.

"Minerva, my dear. Yes, Harry was with me. He sought me out. I assume you know then?" He said, referring to the reason why Harry was here.

"Yes Albus, I know," she said quietly. "I can't believe..." She choked and couldn't carry on in fear that she burst into tears again. Albus had never seen her like this. It was obvious she cared a great deal about Harry too.

"I know, but it has, and now we have to do what we can for Harry. Harry, would you like some food or would you rather just sleep for a while longer?" Harry was rather taken back by what Dumbledore had said, but he simply told the old man he'd rather sleep for now. That way, he'd be left alone to think.

A/N: I know it's bad, I told you. But still, review and tell me what you think! Remember, I have my own experiences of this so it is equally as hard for me to write this as I'm sure you can imagine it must be for Harry. I hope you enjoyed it! I will update as soon as possible so hang around!


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Don't own Harry Potter. Never have, never will. Guys, I think I've got writers block. Either that or my work is naturally this terrible. Knowing me, it's more likely the second option. WARNING: Scenes of sexual abuse and self-harm. If this disturbs you, then do not read. I hope you enjoy! It's meant to be an emotional chapter.

**Chapter 7: Flashbacks. **

Harry heard the door creak open slowly and knew what he was in for. He heard the harsh breath through the darkness and the floorboards creaking slightly as the figure walked towards him. He was aware of the sound of metal and leather jingling as he gathered a belt was being removed. He pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to feign sleep, but he knew that wouldn't change anything anyway. The man would still wake him up and have his pleasure. The cold air hit his frail body as the covers were pulled back, revealing his skinny figure in the too big pyjamas he knew would soon be removed. He began to feel the heat radiating from the older man as he sat on the edge of the bed. Slipping one large, grubby hand inside the too big trousers, he began to carefully stroke the younger man's parts, ignoring the whimpers of fright from the boy. Despite the fact that he knew it was wrong and was completely repulsed by what was happening, the younger man felt his manhood stand on end as his body gave into the horrific desire. He heard a snarl, and that's when the hand was removed from his trousers to quickly flip him so he was lying on his front. He could smell whiskey as the older man breathed heavily in his ear. His trousers and boxers were removed leaving his lower half completely naked. He began to silently cry into the pillow, the tears dampening the pillow as well as the sweat that stood out on his forehead. His breath caught in his throat as the older man mumbled something in his ear before forcefully inserting himself into the younger man's behind.

"Are you ready, freak?" Harry let out the scream as his uncle pounded into him with no mercy.

Harry woke up, aware of someone shaking him by the shoulders. Rough hands shaking him. The images of his uncle came back to him. It was just a nightmare, oh thank god, it was just a nightmare. _It was more than a nightmare, _his subconscious snarled at him, his upper lip curling in a sneer, _it was memories._ He pushed the thoughts away when he felt the hands leave his body after he shot up. He found himself staring into the cold, black eyes of Professor Snape and wondered where Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were.

"Potter, are you alright? You were screaming. Did you have a nightmare? Was it a vision? What happened?" Not giving him any time to control himself after the nightmare, Professor Snape just pounced on him. _Oh the irony_, he thought bitterly to himself, _of Snape saying this after the nightmare I just had. Memory,_ his subconscious jeered. _Does he ever leave me alone? _

Still shaking slightly and completely afraid of the touch, he looked Snape in the eye and told him he was fine. But Snape just laughed mercilessly.

"Of course you're fine, Potter. Because famous Harry Potter can handle everything, it appears. Who would have thought that the boy destined to kill one of the most powerful wizards of our time could be fine after a nightmare? My my, aren't you a brave little Gryffindor." Harry just glared at the man hatefully, ignoring the sarcasm and bitter remarks. He turned to the side to find some clean clothes thrown over the back of a chair. Thank god, he thought to himself, these ones are all dirty. He hadn't been able to change since he got here so the ones he was wearing were still covered in blood and sick. It was disgusting.

Swinging his good leg over the side of the bed first so he'd have something to balance on, he limped over to the chair, ignoring the pain and ignoring Professor Snape. He pulled his top off and replaced it with the new clean one. He then shuffled out of his trousers, although he bit back the groan when he struggled to get his broken leg out, and was about to step into the new ones when he heard Snape's gasp. He turned to face him, and found him staring at the outside of his thigh. _Shit!_

"Potter, what are those?" The disbelief and concern was evident in his Professor's eyes as well as his voice. Concern? _Surely not_, he must be mistaken.

"Erm, they're- err, they're scratches, sir. From the...from the cat." Snape snarled at Harry, his concern changing to anger.

"Potter, those are cuts, yes, but not from a cat. Don't lie to me. Those are cuts that have been self-implemented. You have self-harmed." Harry looked down at the ground. He couldn't meet his most hated professor's gaze. He heard light footsteps and braced himself for a brutal attack, just like his uncle, and was completely surprised when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him in. His face was plastered again the black robes, breathing in the smell of potions as well as something else that he could not quite put his finger on. He was momentarily reminded of a lily, _his Mother_. He pushed the thought aside as the emotions caught up to him. Unwillingly, his arms wrapped around the professor's waist as Harry clutched tightly at whatever he could hold. Grabbing a fistful of the man's robes, he pressed his face against his chest as the tears began to stream down his face. He was aware of being led back to the bed, and was surprised when the man got in next to him. What was happening? He continued to cry into the man's chest, completely forgetting who it was he was crying into. He began to think about the first time he had cut...

He was left lying on the floor. His uncle had just finished raping him and his back was on fire after he had also used the belt on him. He was naked, his ribs showing up so evidently that he could count each and every one. His arms were bruised, along with the rest of his body. He thought again about suicide. He rummaged in his luggage for the cracked mirror he'd told Dumbledore about, and when he found a piece and got it out, he brought it to his throat. He could feel it pressing against the bruises there from when his uncle had wrapped his fingers around his neck, crushing the breath out of him. He added a little force, and felt a tickle of blood when he noticed a white patch. At the top of his right thigh, was a small patch of white skin, skin his uncle hadn't managed to cut or bruise. The urge to slit his throat still remained, but something darker took over him. He led the piece of glass to his thigh, and breathed in sharply as it glided across his skin, leaving a straight trail of blood in his path. Just beneath the cut he'd just made, Harry made another one. And another one. And another one, until all he could see was 13 long, thin cuts across the small patch of his right leg. He felt sated, and breathed in relief when suddenly, the pain washed over him again. But this time, the pain caused from the cuts. He leaned against the wall and felt his ribs run painfully against each other. At least now he had a way of getting relief...

By now, his tears had stopped and dry sobs racked his body. He could feel Snape's hand on his back, absent-mindedly rubbing circles across it whilst making soothing sounds. His body tensed and then relaxed again as he became accustomed to the affection. And then it hit him. _Shit..._ He quickly sat up, knocking Snape's hand off of him in the process, and looked at the man with wide eyes. He was clearly frightened, and for a moment, Harry saw a look of care flashed across Snape's eyes. But, he must have imagined it, for the next moment Snape just looked agitated as well as surprised. What Harry wasn't aware of, however, was that as he lay against his Potions Master's chest (he couldn't hide the flush of embarrassment every time he thought about it) he'd felt a deep surge of trust for the man. A trust so great that as he remembered, Snape was able to see it too. It was able to work in almost the same way that the way love worked between Harry and his mother. At the time, Harry felt the trust for the man and due to the close proximity, he allowed the man to enter his head and see what he was seeing. Or better yet, re-visiting.

"Potter, what was that?" Harry noticed the confusion in his voice and, though he was sure he was mistaken, the slightest sense of fear. He didn't know what Snape meant. He gathered he was referring to the crying on his chest (another flush).

"What was what, Professor?" Snape snarled and glared at the boy. He was going to make him say it.

"What I just saw, Potter." Now Harry really didn't understand. _What he just saw?_

"I- I don't know, what...what did you see, Professor?" Snape was beyond pissed. Potter was going to make him say it. He didn't get why he was acting like nothing had happened. He probably hoped that he'd imagined that you were in his head. Or maybe he doesn't know? He took a deep breath before explaining.

"Just now, just after you stopped crying, I somehow felt like I'd stepped into the pensieve because I was watching what I presume is a memory of you when you cut yourself. So I ask again, what was that?" Harry paled and looked like he was about to be sick.

"You...you saw that?" The disbelief was clearly evident in his voice. "But...how? It was in my head," and then a realisation hit him. "You used legilimens! How- how dare you! Those are my memories, they're not yours! You didn't have my permission!" Snape was suddenly aware of the fact that Harry looked ready to lunge at him and so quickly jumped off the bed and turned to face him. He was leaning across the bed as if he'd made a grab for Severus.

"Harry! Listen to me. I would never use legilimens on you without having your consent first. I don't know what just had happened, why it happened or how it happened, but I want to know just as much as you do. So I advise you to calm down so we can talk about this." Harry paled and then retreated back into his position on the bed, but his knees were drawn up under his chin now. The submissive position... _He looked completely frightened, and it was all because of me_, Snape thought to himself. He scoffed at his thoughts, concentrating next on what he was going to say to the boy. He wasn't even aware that he'd called him Harry earlier, but Harry seemed to have noticed and it only freaked him out more. "Now, Potter, would you please explain to me exactly what you saw so we can see if we both saw the same thing." His eyes widened at having to tell it, but he nodded his head nonetheless.

"O-Ok... Well, my uncle had just...left me, and I-I couldn't bear what he'd just done. I found in my luggage, a sharp piece of glass from a…broken mirror," he wouldn't tell Snape which broken mirror though. "And...I cut my thigh with it." He curled into a tighter ball. Professor Snape sighed (he seemed to do a lot of that lately) before speaking.

"No, Harry. There was more to it, and you know it. You took that glass and held it against your throat. You were going to commit suicide. You looked so lost... Why didn't you tell, Harry?" He was sick of hearing this question. His head shot up, and he glared at Snape.

"Because who would have believed me? Famous Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One. Who would have believed that I was telling the truth and not just doing it for attention? I couldn't tell anyone, not even Ron and Hermione. I didn't want the attention. I'm sick of attention. It's all I ever get. Let's all look at Harry Potter, see if he's good enough to save the world. Oh look, he's fainted. Guess we can't rely on him then. Oh no, someone's being horrible to him, let's just protect him so he never learns how to fight his own wars. What the hell was I supposed to do?! To you, I was Dumbledore's 'Golden Boy'. To everyone in Gryffindor, I was the one to bring pride to the house. To Dumbledore, I was his pawn to play across the chess board. To the whole fucking wizarding world, I was their supposed saviour. Yet to the muggle's I was just another boy amongst a massive population. And to my uncle, I was his sex toy. I was the boy who had to endure the rape and torture just to feel that I had paid my debt to him for letting me sleep under his roof. Believe me, if I could have, I would have just ended it all. But no. No. One. Would. Let. Me! So maybe now, you'll think before you call me the golden boy. Because I'm not golden! I've fell straight from hell into the clasps of the devil! And I just want it to be over... I want it to just fucking end for good. I'm tired, Professor Snape, will you please leave so I can get some sleep?" And before waiting for an answer, he turned his back on Snape who just stood there, dumbfounded, and pretended to get to sleep when really, he was letting the tears silently fall. But Severus couldn't move. He just stared at the boy, even if he wasn't facing him, and for once let his walls crumble down. Harry was right, of course, he'd treated Harry disgustingly just because he was like his father. But he wasn't anything like his father. He was the opposite. He wasn't arrogant. In fact, it seemed he lacked any self-esteem at all. He didn't think he was the boy, quite the contrary really. He was a poor, defenceless and neglected boy. And Severus had hurt him further and made his life harder purely because of his hatred for his father. He knew what he had to do now.

Harry, I- I didn't even realise you felt that way. I thought you craved the attention, just like your father did. I looked at you and saw a whole bundle of arrogance and skill. But you're nothing like that. You're...a neglected child who I've shamed wrongly. I apologise gravely for my mistakes and misjudgements. I hope you can forgive me." He knew it probably sounded corny coming from him, but he had to say it. He had hurt him, and he couldn't even forgive himself so he don't know what Harry was going to do. Yet he heard the boy sniff, and gathered he was crying. Severus sat back down on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch Harry if he wanted to yet refraining. He felt some great emotions stir inside him as he looked at the boy who was shaking slightly. He laid a hand on the boys shoulder, and felt him tense before the boy moved to face him. He had indeed been crying. He took a deep breath.

"I tried- I tried so hard to get you to like me. I did the work as best as I could, but you wouldn't. I never knew why. It felt like you hated me for the same reason _they_ hated me," he put emphasis on the 'they', "simply because I...I existed." Professor Snape felt guilt wash across him like a wave.

"Harry, I-no. It's not because you existed. I-" he didn't know what to do, so he quickly gathered the boy in his arms and held him against him. He didn't know why he did it, but he felt the impulse to. Harry once again tensed before relaxing, wrapping his arms tightly around the man. What neither seemed aware of was the fact that three people stood outside the curtains around Harry's bed and had heard the whole thing as well as seen Snape holding Harry. When they dared to take a look. Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall and Dumbledore had never expected this to happen. Severus cared about Harry.

A/N: Well…what do you think? I'm struggling with ideas here. I'm hoping to lead up to a Snarry slash, what's your guys' opinion on that? I don't want to go wrong with this story! I always start a story, and then get frightened of finishing it so give up! If I don't update for a week, then it either means I've given up or I haven't had time. Review please guys, it's the only motivation I have of carrying it on. What does everyone think will happen in the next chapter? !


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